My Brother's Keeper
by Maeve-Juniper
Summary: Accounting Elizabeth Lawson's young life as a Squib. As her brother, older by three years, gains his magical abilities and goes to Hogwarts all she can do is hope that maybe one day the little sparkles of magic will come from her, too. But life doesn't always give us what we want, sometimes we must make the most of what we have.
1. Chapter 1

Year_ 3_

I can recall my first memory easily, if someone were to ask about it.

It is of my brother and I, out in the garden and it must have been during the summer, because all the flowers are in full bloom and vibrant. First memories are never about yourself. I was sitting contently in the grass, running my fingers along the ground. A particularly green glade catches my eye so I reach across and tear it from the earth with my tiny fist, bringing it up to my face for a better look. Then my brother, Noah, six years old at the time, comes dashing beside me.

"'Elo, Libs" He slurs as most little kids do, staring at me with wide grey eyes.

In the memory I feel like I should know this person, they are familiar, and without even thinking about it a word pops out from my mouth. "'Oah!" His name, simplified and correct in a tiny human's mind.

This pleases him, a wide grin spreads on his tiny face. With the emotion comes twinkles of light, sparks, that fall all around us. We are both amazed at this, he is especially excited. I let the glade fall from my fist,forgotten, as I instead reach up to grab one of the sparkles. They all dissolve before I could ever get a hold of them. To a three year old this did not seem strange or out of the ordinary at all, if anything the light seemed to fit perfectly among the flowers. It turns out I had also become forgotten in Noah's excitement, as he runs off to some mystery destination.

Quickly he comes back out, this time trailed by two adults that I adore, though yet again, in the memory, I'm not sure why. As they come closer the same thing happens as it did with Noah "Ma, Da!" I had shouted in an eager little voice, giggling under a canopy of twinkles. They seem incredibly happy by the dots of light too but that had already left my little mind. I think, in the memory, that their happiness comes from seeing me. Wiggling my arms as they come closer, I expect that they will come and pick me up as they draw closer.

But they don't. Not immediately. They stare, above my head, transfixed by the tiny lights still falling like brilliantly sparkling snow. My smile falls when I realize that they are not paying much attention to me. They speak in an excited voice to Noah, mum hugging him around the shoulders and dad has a hand on his back, patting encouragingly.

"You did it" Dad says, still staring above me.

At the time I had no idea what he was talking about. What did the little one do that was so amazing, that deserved so much praise? I couldn't articulate it that way at the time either, but those feelings were etched into my heart. Finally I am given a thought, dad picks me up in his arms and points out the lights to me, from this height it is a little hard to make out the glowing stuff from the pale blue sky. He leans into my head, warm, jaw rough with a bit of a beard.

"Soon you'll get to do that too, Libby dear," He whispers lovingly. Still I don't know what he could possibly be talking about. As far as I had been concerned the sparkles had happened by themselves, with no need for human prompting.

My first memory had been about magic.

* * *

><p><em>Year 6<em>

My brother Noah is magic.

Sometimes he accidentally floats cups into the air when he's bored and when he gets very mad he might hex without thinking. Or, at least, that's what he says. Mummy told me that he was magic, and that's why he can do those things. Mummy and daddy are also magic, they told Noah that they would teach him how to fly on a broom this year. They already bought him a broom from a place they called Diagon Alley, but Noah and I aren't allowed to go until we're older.

Mummy also says that I will be able to use magic, too, she says I'm probably going to develop it at a more normal time than Noah did and that's why nothing spectacular happens when I show a lot of emotion. Then she says how daddy was a very late-bloomer, so I should not worry about Noah's teasing. Then she laughs and daddy looks annoyed but I never understand why, mummy is just being funny.

Noah will be going to Hogwarts in two years, and he simply cannot wait. Neither can I really, it makes me mad that he will be there for three years before I get to. Daddy says his time at Hogwarts had been some of the best years of his life, and that it was where he met mummy. He says he was put into Ravenclaw, the most clever house, while mummy had been put into Gryffindor, the bravest house of all. There's also Hufflepuff and Slytherin, but Noah and I don't care for those because mummy and daddy weren't in them. When mummy and daddy aren't around Noah tells me not to talk about Hogwarts or houses or that I would like to be in Gryffindor too, because I won't ever go to Hogwarts. That I am not magical, and that Hogwarts doesn't want any muggles.

I always tell him that that is silly, because I cannot be a muggle, I cannot be non-magical. If mummy and daddy and Noah are magical, than I must be too. I always remind him what mummy said about normal times and late-bloomers, but then he just tells me that she only says that to make me feel better. Then I say how wrong and dim he must be, because daddy was a late-bloomer and he turned out to be great at magic, so ha! But then Noah would tell me that they were lying and daddy could always use magic since he was very little, but I don't believe him. They would never lie to me about that. Noah just wants all the attention, he always has.

"You can't do magic, Libs," He says to me one night after dinner, once we are tucked into our own beds in our shared room. "It just isn't in you,"

I frown. "Shh, Noah, we must go to bed. Daddy is teaching you how to fly, tomorrow. Maybe he'll let me onto the broom for a little, too, if I am very good."

There is light movement from his side, he turns to me and I can see his face just a bit. He shakes his head. "No, daddy would never, you're too small and you'd just fall off. That or you wouldn't be able to make it off the ground,"

"Be quiet Noah, you are the meanest boy on earth!" I say, my voice coming out garbled as tears fill my eyes.

Quickly I roll as far away from him as possible, because he is the meanest boy on earth. Secretly I hope that my first bit of magic will be jinxing him off his broom tomorrow. But when he slips out of his bed and crawls over to mine, coming under the covers into my bed, there is nothing I can do to stop him. He nudges over so he is right next to me, then pokes my sides. After I don't respond he puts a hand on my shoulder, like daddy would probably do, and shakes gently.

"Hey," He speaks softly. "Sorry Libby ears, that wasn't very nice. I just really like magic is all, and if you get some than it feels like I'm sharing,"

"Mummy says sharing is good," I whisper.

For awhile he doesn't say anything, and I expect that whatever he tells me next will be awful. "I suppose she's right. Night Libby ears," He says, kissing my ear, then he slides out from my bed and tiptoes over to his own. Before I drift off to sleep I imagine myself tomorrow, being able to lift the broom at least an inch off the ground.

We live in a wizard community on the English country side. Mummy told me once, and I remember very well because I like how it sounds when I say it. Also, I have a very good memory which I am very proud of, because it's even better than Noah's. Sometimes when daddy is oddly forgetful I will remind him of things he may have been missing. It is very good for basic home schooling, Noah and I learn the same things because we're close enough in age, though that makes me ahead of a lot of other six year old's. I'm also better in school than Noah which he gets mad about, and mummy tells me always with a smile that I could make a perfect Ravenclaw. Whenever she tells me I begin to think that maybe being in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor wouldn't be so bad.

Because we live on the countryside with only other wizards around, it is very easy for daddy to take us out to the field to learn how to use a broom without having to be worried about a muggle spotting us. So today that is exactly where he takes us. As we got up this morning I thought Noah might forget all about his apology and complain about how I am coming along, but he never says a word about it. Daddy brings two brooms with us, one for himself and one for Noah. Daddy says that I don't have one because I'm not old enough to learn yet, and this makes sense to me because Noah only got one this year. It's not because he's more special than me. It's not.

Leaving his own broom off to the side daddy steps in front of Noah, dropping my brother's broom between them. Noah stares down at it while daddy stares directly at Noah. The broom is very strange compared to others, with the weird hair-like things attached to it a shocking green while the handle is gold and shiny. Bringing out a hand daddy says "Up!" and the broom instantly places itself in daddy's grasp without him ever even taking a peek at it. Noah's eyes follow like he's in a trance, then stares at daddy.

"Now, Noah," Daddy begins, and I listen very carefully in case anything he says might help me. "When it comes to picking up a broom like I just did, you cannot just stare at it and _expect_ things to happen. You are in total control, but it must be natural. It is not a question of whether the broom _might_ come to you, because it _will_ come to you. Just like how the sun comes up every morning or the weather changes, but this time it is up to you and what _you_ want, nothing else. No ifs, and's or buts. All you have to do is say up,"

He drops the broom again, it doesn't make much of a noise as it hits the ground. "You can try now," He tells Noah.

For a few minutes that's what Noah does, trying a few different techniques. At first he tries being like daddy, not really looking at the broom but rather at everything else with his hand held over it and repeatedly saying up. It seems to come to him that that would be too advanced for him, so he stares, too intensely, at the broom, apparently willing it to lift from the earth. Daddy doesn't give him any word of advice, just watches next to me. Noah grows more irritated as his nose bunches up and he gets a sort of mad look on his face but never does he whine or say anything to daddy. The whole thing seems odd to me, Noah should be asking daddy for help like he does with homework but he doesn't. Eventually the broom, very, very slowly wobbles off the ground, coming up as fast as a turtle. Noah is very proud of this as a huge grin takes place on his face, but just as quickly it falls to the ground again. So does Noah's grin.

"Good start, lad." Daddy congratulates, though Noah still doesn't seem to think so. "We can go back now, if you've had enough for today."

All of a sudden Noah gets an angry look again. "No! I can do it! I will do it! I already have, that means I can do it again! The broom must come_up,_" He yells.

The broom is now for the first time in his hand through his own magic, too fast for me to have seen. Daddy also notices, but for a moment Noah is still unaware. His angry look gets mixed with confusion. "What're you two staring at?"

Daddy must have given him some look, just after having locked his grey eyes on him Noah looks to his own side, at the golden handle resting there. His entire face lights up and I think for a moment that twinkles are going to pop out of him but they don't, he's been getting better at that. He lifts it before himself like it was some newly discovered object and does some high pitched screaming at his own brilliance.

"Before long you'll be playing quidditch with the best of them," Daddy says, smiling happily. Daddy had been on his own team when he was younger, but I'm not really sure what exactly quidditch is. They tried explaining it to me once but there were too many details, Noah understands it and now talks about all the famous teams whenever he can. Daddy says when I'm Noah's age I'll be able to picture it better, whatever that means. All I can imagine is a lot of people throwing a lot of balls at each other while flying on brooms, and it seems rather silly. Still, daddy's smart and likes quidditch so there must be something to it.

"Alright, now that really is enough for today. I wasn't sure if you'd be able to do much today but you've done more than enough. We'll start flying tomorrow,"

"Daddy?" I ask, tugging on his jacket. He looks down at me curiously.

"Yes, lovely Libby?"

"Could I try to lift the broom, just a little? I won't ride, I-"

He shakes his head, a bit sadly, but I don't care. All I see is the rejection. "No, Elizabeth, we can't have you starting now or you might fly away some day."

_You wouldn't be able to make it off the ground._

* * *

><p><em>Year 8<em>

Noah got his letter today. He is eleven years old now, an owl came in bright and early to drop the parcel, with a wax seal and all. He waves it around all throughout the house, jumping and shouting in delight. Mum and dad -I started calling them this when Noah did- are watching with a silent joy. I am also somewhat elated, the mood rubbing off on me.

"Oh I can't wait! Just a few more months and I'll get into a house, than I can try out for quidditch-"

Dad calls after him "They might not accept you on the team since you're a first year, but if you do very well during try-outs they'll keep an eye on you for next year,"

I understand quidditch very well now, as I have picked up on what exactly bludgers and chasers and all those sorts are. Still I am not all that interested in the game, not as eager as dad or Noah, but at least I don't get that look from Noah anymore about it. The look that tells me I have no place. Once he begins to finally calm down he comes back to the staircase where we all are, waiting. Looking up he spots me and I give him a small smile of approval, because I hope that when my time comes he will be just as happy about it. He makes his way to me, the letter floating in his fingers, and presents it to me.

"Here Libs, have a look see,"

Carefully I take the paper in my hands, addressed to Noah. It sounds flowery with welcoming Noah to school then goes on to list all the supplies he'll need and a separate list for what pet he is allowed to have there. An owl is on the list, but I cannot imagine Noah with an animal. He would probably ignore any poor pet he brought with him. I hand it back to his still smiling face, pretending to be more impressed than I really am. It's only a letter, one all wizards and witches in Britain get at eleven years old. In three years, I will have one too.

"You'll need an owl, for getting our letters," Mum says.

"You'll be getting all your things when school gets closer, at Diagon Alley," I wonder who will be babysitting me. "Of course all of us will be going."

Diagon Alley.

A month and a half later we use Floo powder to get there, sparkling green grains. One by one we get into the fire pit, mum tells me when it's my turn to just think of the name, only the name and I'll get there. Dad goes first, then Noah. When it's my turn mum draws out the pouch of powder and holds it out in front of me, I take a handful.

"Remember, Diagon Alley," She says, very serious.

How could I ever forget?

Throwing the powder beneath my feet the room changes and shifts and I feel a little sick but when things come together again I can make out Noah and dad, so it must have worked. I walk out into a new world, the real wizarding world and not the old community I live in where everyone keeps to themselves, where people are so afraid of he-who-shall-not-be-named returning that they lock all their doors and close their blinds. Everyone here at the Leaky Cauldron lets magic flow, they do not hide in their pointy hats and long robes. Dad reaches his hand out for me and I take it, even with the amazingness of it all I am still a little afraid, I still want dad. Noah apparently does not, he is impatient and jittery beside us as we wait on mum.

She comes through not much long after and joins us. The three of us stay close together as we walk out into the streets but Noah has grown the need to run off to look at things in stores. Diagon Alley is cramped and close-spaced, you can only see the sky if you look directly up at it. But there are too many interesting things to see at eye level, so I don't bother with that for very long. It is a very fun day, after getting all the mandatory things for Noah, like quills and a new cauldron, we go to Ollivander's where a bunch of funny things happen to Noah with the wands, like cause rain clouds to go over his head and his pants to fly down revealing boxers and turning him pink. Then while he is holding one some of those infamous bulbs of light show up again, and the wand he holds turns out to be the one. After all that we take a break.

We stop be a candy store and I get some chocolate frogs and Bertie's Every Flavour Beans, the ones I don't like dad takes away and eats them no matter how bad they taste. Noah and I giggle every time we know it's a particularly gross one, but dad never gives it away. We then move on to get Noah his own owl, a big brown barn owl with yellow eyes and a huge beak, stored in a proper cage. Noah get's fitted into some standard robes for Hogwarts and then we're back in the Leaky Cauldron and I have another handful of Floo powder cupped in my hand, thinking about how much more spectacular it will be when a future trip to Diagon Alley will be for me.

Noah has been gone for about a month now. We dropped him off at King's Cross Station and I got to run through a brick wall to platform 9 and 3/4 where we all saw him off. The house is quieter and more peaceful I suppose. I don't think it's a very good environment for me to use magic accidentally. There are no kids in my village to play with, just a lot of old people. Mum told me this was because a lot of people were afraid to have kids when you-know-who was still around and really powerful. Mum wanted to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix when she was younger to help stop him, but grandma wouldn't let her. She did what she could and hid mudbloods in her attic, one time they almost got caught for having one.

It has been rather dull lately.

Noah has sent a letter already. He got into Ravenclaw, which he seemed fine with. Dad makes a comment that it's because of the extra time they've spent on honing what they could without a wand when really Noah should have came into Hogwarts with little practice. Dad told Noah not to tell anyone about it because even though kids under eleven are exempt from the underage magic rule, it's still expected that parents try and keep a better handle and would only make dad look bad in the community. He went on to tell Noah to try and seem like he has less than basic use of magic just to be safe. Noah is making lots of friends like two boys named Michael Corner and Terry Boot, and he says that his favourite teacher is Professor Flitwick, though then goes on to say that he likes Care of Magical Creatures best because it's much more fresh to him than anything else, and he really is more clueless about it.

Dad says how Noah's curiosity proved all along that he was meant to be a Ravenclaw, then says to mum that her house might have better luck with me.

Mum says there is no chance in Godric's Hollow that either of her kids will be marked by red and gold.

The rest is rather boring as mum reads it through, describing the headmaster and some of the other staff like Hagrid who is a half giant and speaks in a strange way and a man named Mr. Filch who is a Squib, which I've never heard of before. Mum says Squibs are people who have magic parents but are not magic themselves, which really sounds awful. My mind flashes to Noah and the countless times he has said that I am not magical, and I shiver a bit at the thought.

Why would anyone like that want to always be surrounded by a bunch of people who could do things they could never have the power to do?

Mum reads the last of the letter, Noah sending his love and surprisingly he says that he cannot wait until my first year at Hogwarts, so that I can see everything too. I think perhaps he is trying to win some points with mum and dad. It seems to work as they think the personal message to me is sweet and very mature for Noah, that he must be changing already. Then mum starts to tear up for some reason and dad pats her back nicely, so he must understand what's wrong.

I get off my chair in the kitchen and quietly go upstairs to leave them alone.

Noah comes back from Hogwarts for Christmas break. It is like he has never left. Very easily I am brought back to a few months ago when he still lived with us, and it's strange to think that he'll be leaving again for some more months and then back again for a little while only to leave again. Like I only have a part-time brother. He brought lots of Ravenclaw stuff with him, like a new hat and scarf and mitts striped in blue and bronze. He even has a couple little rectangular flag things with him which he says he waves around during quidditch matches from the stands. He had tried out for the team like he said he would and the captain told him he had a lot of talent but as dad predicted was instructed to come try out again next year as it was very rare to take a first year into the group.

Another thing that he did not mention in his letters was that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is in the same year as him. He was sorted into Gryffindor. The only way a witch or wizard couldn't know about Harry was if they had been living under a rock or in the muggle world for decades. Mum would tell us as a night time story that it was Harry Potter, only a tiny little baby at the time, around the same age as us, had the dark lord threaten to kill him. Then, through acts that no wizard truly knows about, he managed to defeat you-know-who and had only come out of the encounter with a scar whereas so many before had perished. Instantly everyone knew who he was.

A superstar.

"Really?" I shriek once he tells us over supper. Mum and dad don't seem surprised by this at all, but they probably knew about it to begin with. "What's he look like? Does he still have the scar?"

"Green eyes, messy dark hair, and yes he's still got the scar. Got glasses, too," Noah says before stuffing a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Oh... have you talked to him before?" I ask hopefully. Maybe he's said something wise to make my brother act less like a prat.

Noah tilts his head in thought. Strange, not that long ago he would have been begging for this kind of information on what they all considered a sort of superhero. " Once or twice, we don't have many classes together. He keeps to himself and these two other Gryffindors a lot, not one for socializing really. He's actually grown up in the muggle world and didn't know anything about what he did as a baby. Almost like it wasn't actually him at all,"

This just keeps getting more disappointing. The situation seems incredibly odd. "Well then he must at least be an amazing wizard,"

Noah shrugs. "Not really, pretty average if you ask me. That one friend of his, the girl, is much more talented. She picks up on things better,"

"That's enough about Harry Potter, isn't it Elizabeth? I'm sure Noah would like to talk about other things. How about your friends?" She changes the subject. Dinner goes on smoothly

During the break we went on a few quidditch practices, this time dad letting me try my hand at lifting the broom for a few minutes. It does absolutely nothing. Noah doesn't comment on this and dad doesn't seem upset, he tells me that it might be better if I learned how to fly at Hogwarts anyway. So instead of learning to fly dad lets me on the broom with him, myself in the back so I can hold on to him, and together, with Noah on his own broom, we sail many feet into the sky. It is a very fun two weeks and when New Year's day comes Noah tells me that means I only have another two more years to wait. When we see him off again at King's Cross he gives me a huge bear hug.

"Bye, Libby ears," He says right into my ears, and I get the feeling I am going to miss him.

"See you, Noah," I bid, hugging him back.

He lets go and mum and dad come to hug him as well, he seems to be a bit embarrassed by their sign of love. Brother's are weird; first he seems fine with hugging me but doesn't want mum and dad to do the same for him. Mum always says we're lucky how we have parents when a lot of children had been left orphaned or without one parent, Noah should know this best of all since he by now must have met at least a few of them. Harry Potter is one of them. Then again Noah might tell me to shut my big gob and that I listen to mum too much. Or maybe not, he seems to have gotten nicer.

We watch as he boards the train, getting into a car box and sitting down with some people he seems familiar with if chatting with them is any indication. It's all a bit fuzzy from our spot on the platform but he seems to see us well as he notices our watching eyes and waves at us. The train's whistle blows and the wheels start to turn, gas billows out from the machine and my brother is off to Hogwarts again.

Not once during the trip did he tell me that I cannot use magic.

* * *

><p><em>Year 11<em>

Today is my birthday, which means I should be getting my letter to Hogwarts. I have still never showed any signs of having magical capabilities. I'm not sure what to make of that.

The other day I heard mum and dad talking in their room, I don't think I was supposed to hear any of it but I did anyway. They were whispering to each other so I wasn't sure what they were saying at first, until I pressed my ear into the door and got into a comfortable sitting position, trying to be as quiet as possible. Their voices get louder, but just barely.

"Could be..."

"No, no, that's not...has it, so why not...?"

"We have to face..."

"Still, time..."

"Other ways... world would be..."

The response is a tad louder. It's mum. "No! Not acceptable..."

"...our hands. Genes...the way...so we have no right..."

"Should have...earlier..."

"Too late. Would have... no good...me,"

Their voices draw lower until their conversation slowly comes to a halt, leaving me with no more clues to go on. I can only guess at what they were talking about. Me, they are starting to have doubts about me. I was surprised that their doubts had only started recently, they must have never lied like Noah said on one occasion. Dad really was a late-bloomer, if I were him I would have started showing signs only a couple months ago.

But I am not, and so far there has been nothing.

Today is my birthday, and unless there is some really large mistake, if I do not get a letter, than that will be the deciding factor. I will never be magical. That outcome is something I never liked to think on too much because when I do my hands get all sweaty and I feel just wretched. Now the name Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker who every student at that magical school abhors, comes to mind.

I could be like him.

My future could be taking care of a school I never attended with only an old cat as company.

It is just as awful as when I first pictured it.

Immediately after getting out of bed I run to the front door still with a hop in my step because I could still turn out to be a witch and then mum and dad will regret everything they said the other night and in a couple weeks I could go to Diagon Alley and maybe get a cat, and then I would get to go to Hogwarts and be sorted into a house just like Noah though I probably wouldn't try out for quidditch. Dad would tell me to keep Noah's secret training between just us and I would get to decide which professors and classes I like best and if I ever came across Filch's cat during proper hours I would give her a treat for being a good friend to someone who needs it. Then I would come home for Christmas with new mitts and a hat and scarf and tell everyone about Harry Potter.

As I get to the door my feet slow, but my brain speeds up even more. I tiptoe to the mail box and shove my hand inside, feeling for a letter. I do not try to make out a wax seal or feel the texture of whatever I'm pulling out, afraid that they would tell me something I do not want to know. My hand comes out with a few letters in hand. None of them are for Hogwarts.

I had not realized that my parents were present until they come up from behind me, wrapping their arms around me, as if they were trying to encase me from the outside world. From all of realities harsh truths. They must know this is too much to bear, my heart feels torn in half. There are tears growing in my eyes and blurring my vision but it doesn't seem to matter now.

Nothing seems to matter.

It had been the worst birthday of my life. There is no shouting around the house for me, mum doesn't tell me that I might need an owl and dad doesn't mention Diagon Alley. I suppose I could always get an owl and use Floo powder to visit Diagon Alley, anyone could do those things, but there would be no meaning to it. I would still be a useless Squib. No letter for me comes at all today, none addressing Elizabeth Lawson inviting her to Hogwarts.

At supper, mum says I can get whatever I want for my birthday, she would travel to any corner of the earth to retrieve it. I almost tell her that unless there is some secret hidden reservoir of magic in the world that could be transferred into someone, than there was nothing that I wanted. But mum doesn't deserve me being mean to her and I have never been the biting type like Noah so I don't say anything at all. Dad goes on to say that I could still go to a private boarding school if I'd like, with uniforms and dormitories and everything. He says it would be like the same experience, maybe I would have more interesting adventures than Noah. What adventures could muggles possibly get up to? He says that I could also continue on in home-schooling if I wanted, stay close to them.

I tell them that I am too tired to consider anything.

After supper mum comes up to tuck me in, she hasn't done that for months. I do not swat her away as she creeps forward, possibly expecting that I would get angry with her. When I don't she sits on the side of my bed, looking down at me with her grey eyes just like the ones Noah has. It reminds me a bit of what I don't. Mum flattens my hair a bit though it's already relatively straight and I think it might be more for her own sake than mine. She sighs and I only stare up at her, waiting for her to do something. Maybe hug me, or tell me that at least I'm not a muggle, anything at all.

"You're a special girl, Elizabeth," She says softly, it doesn't sound particularly loving, more like she's actually making a simple observation. "Always have been,"

I have no idea what she could be talking about. Everyone is more special than me, her and dad and Noah and everyone in this community. They all have the little bulbs of light that I do not, the lights that make life fantastic.

She seems to see the confusion on my face as her smile grows a bit. "It's true even if it doesn't seem like it. Normally when a witch and a wizard have a baby the baby is also magical, just like what happened with Noah. What's special about you is that you were not the regular old thing, maybe you weren't the first time it's happened but you were different. You had other plans, and now you can make yourself to be something whether it's in the muggle world or the wizard one. You can fit into both,"

"But why should that happen to me? Why don't I deserve to be a witch, too?" I ask, nearly crying again. Maybe I am being a big baby about it, but the more I think of life without magic the more tears form.

"It's not about who deserves what, love. You have life and you have the decisions that were made for you and the ones you get to make. I want you to think about something; do you hate muggles?"

I scrunch up my face at the absurdity of the question. "No! I have never even met one!"

"So then, what is wrong with being more like them and less like a witch?"

"Well, um... they don't get to be a part of the wizarding world,"

"And we don't get to be a part of theirs, not really. One is not better than the other, Libby. The good thing about you, the best, most special and magical thing, is that _you_ get to choose. Not everyone gets that,"

"But I don't wanna be like Mr. Filch. No one likes him,"

Mum frowns. "Mr. Flich does his best, Libby, don't forget that. He wasn't left with being a caretaker if he chose to stay in the wizarding world and don't you forget that. Yes it might be harder to get a very good job in in the wizarding world if you're a Squib but there are still things to do if you like it better. You could own a shop or be an assistant to a Minister, there are so many things you can do darling girl. But most of all, Libby, know that you are loved,"

Could I really have a chance to be a part of their world still, even if I could never fully participate? Suddenly an image of Mr. Filch pops into my head even though I've never seen him, always complaining about students and their misconducts, having no one around to relate to at all. Allowing himself to be surrounded by people who probably only remind him of his failures and that he just wasn't good enough. Would everyone treat me like that, if I were to try and belong?

"Could I go to just regular state school, mum? Not home-school or a boarding school? If I won't be going to Hogwarts I don't want to try and re-create it, or pretend like nothings changed."

She nods, almost enthusiastically. I can see that something I must have said made her over the moon. "Yes, sweet Libs. Go to sleep now, okay? Don't worry about a thing,"

We start packing immediately the next day. I didn't think mum and dad would want to just gather all of our things and leave but before I even woke up they were already at it, putting some of our objects into boxes while tossing others away. When I get up groggily and come downstairs I notice the mayhem but in my dazed state can't imagine what is going on. Stepping down the stairs my mum looks over her shoulder and notices me, her short light brown hair tied back. She smiles at me.

"Libby dear, you're up just in time! After grabbing something to eat you should go to your room and sort out what you would like to bring to the new house!"

"New house...?" I ask, voice slow.

She nods. "Yes, last night we looked into Birmingham and found a secondary and sixth-form college schools for you! And while we were on that we looked around the neighbourhood and just the perfect house was on the market so we couldn't just pass it up! Then-" She giggled at this. "don't tell your brother or anyone, but we used those muggle telephones to call the real estate agents, and bought it right there for the selling price! It even has three rooms, so you and Noah don't have to share when he visits!"

Dad comes into the living room in a t-shirt and jeans, which is the strangest thing I have yet to see this morning. Normally he is much more formally dressed, wizards usually are.

"Morning love," He says, going over to a stack of boxes and picking one up.

"Uh, morning, dad. How did you get to Birmingham? We don't have a car-"

Dad answers. "A cousin on your mum's side lives very close to the city, her house is connected to the Floo network too. From there it was only a fifteen minute walk, she even suggested the schools to us."

They seem way too happy about this. Leaving the magical English countryside for a muggle city just for me. "We don't have to do this, mum and dad, I don't know what I was thinking last night. I should just continue home-schooling, there's really no sense-"

"Pish!" Mum waves her hand. "We can visit Diagon Alley or any of our friends whenever we want, there's hardly a reason to stay on here if a change of scenery helps you. Besides, I've never got along with any of the old barmy's in this village."

So it happened just like that. We spent the entire weekend packing our things and bringing them over to Mrs. Cranks home, as she had been in possession of a vanishing cabinet for years. Our apparent relations near Birmingham had, according to my parents, brought the connecting cabinet to our new home. Dad had already had the fire pit in the new house temporarily connected to the Floo network to make the move easier, so while he is over there getting boxes from the vanishing cabinet mum and I are still here, piling them in every twenty or so minutes. Mum throws out practically anything that is charmed or connected to sorcery, neither of us make a note of her habit. Finally we are done, mum and I use the green powder to get to the new house and we are suddenly in Birmingham giving me an abrupt look at my new life, in a new home, a new city and nothing familiar left but my parents.

They will be the only magic I have.

A letter is sent to Noah about this. When he sends a response mum offers it to me so I can read it, but I refuse. I did not even want to look at his owl when she flew in through the open kitchen window. Averting my eyes all I can see anymore of anything to do with the bird is my mum giving her a few treats and cooing at her. When the barn owl leaves mum says I can get an animal of my own if I want, since Noah has one. I tell her about getting a kitten maybe and she smiles very warmly, agreeing with that plan. A week later a kitten is clutched in dad's hands and as soon as I see the cute little ragdoll kitten with its big blue eyes I giggle and pet his head. Dad gives him to me an I hold gently, as not to break the little darling.

I could not think of a name for him.

Dad suggested Phillip.

I liked it quite a lot.

During the summer Noah came for his visit. He was rather stiff as he came through. He's in his third year now, that means he got to go on a few trips to Hogsmeade for the first time. Then a few moments after he had stepped out of the fire pit I understand why. Another person appears into existence after him, a person that I do not at all recognize but also has on a grey sweater vest with blue and bronze outlines. Another young wizard from Hogwarts. Mum and dad seemed to have known about this and obviously they would, no matter how strong-headed Noah is he wouldn't bring someone here without telling them or against their wishes.

As soon as they see Noah they run up to hug him. Living apart from Noah for so long has given me a new appreciation for him as I sometimes forget how annoying he can be to live with, so normally I would have went to hug him too, but the boy standing less than a foot away from them keeps me at bay.

Noah steps back and looks at his friend. "Terry, these are my parents. Parents, this is my friend Terry," He introduces. I notice the crack in his voice from getting older, it sounds deeper than it used to with weird high pitched moments. Was it like that last year, too? "And this is my little sister Libby," He nods towards me, and I freeze. "She turned eleven in February,"

"Coming to Hogwarts then, next year?" Terry asks with a lopsided grin. He seems like one of those cool boys I watch on the telly sometimes. Now that I think of it I kind of actually like being allowed to use the telly, there are things in there Noah would never get to see. It's only in my room, too, because my parents aren't technically allowed to have one.

"We'll see," My dad says for me, and though his tone is friendly he is protective over me. It seems that Terry does not know that I am a Squib. He must know we live in Birmingham though, it's technically allowed for wizards to do so as long as we are careful about it. He must wonder why we would even live here, though.

"How come you're here?" I ask directly. Noah glares at me and mum gives me a 'now Libby' look and dad clears his throat to say something.

Luckily Terry does not seem bothered. "That's because, young miss, my parents so happen to be on vacation, travelling Asia for some reason or another," His light blue eyes twinkle when he speaks.

After a few more words with mum and dad they go upstairs with their luggage to Noah's room. We did the best we could to design his room like it used to be, posters of famous quidditch players on the wall, Ravenclaw flags pinned to the walls and texts placed nicely in book shelves. Of course when we packed his room those books had been strewn about the place, but mum said it would be untidy to just throw them around and he should take better care of them anyways.

"Libby, you know not to go and tell Terry about you being a Squib," Dad says.

"Why not?" It was not like I would forever be able to keep it a secret from every witch and wizard.

"Your brother didn't say anything, he might like to keep it that way,"

How is that any bit fair? Do I not even have control of who gets to know what I am? "That doesn't make any sense, Noah wouldn't have a right to tell anyone anyway! He's the one who gets to continue his life normally, why is everything always for his sake and never for mine?" I say loudly, not shouting so Terry won't hear.

Without waiting for an answer I dash up the stairs to my own room where Phillip and the telly are. He's not quite as small as he was when we first got him but he is still a kitty with tiny meows and a cute little fluffy head. Flicking the telly on I lay in front of it and Phillip comes to sit on my back, purring loudly and comfortingly. Mum and dad didn't follow me. I watch a few episodes of multiple programs I've never seen before and it slowly seeps in that I was a bit wrong about what I had said. Mum and dad ditched the magical world for me, in a matter of hours they built a new life for us in a world they had never been part of, unfamiliar with, so that I could feel better. Doing what they did for Noah was easy.

This isn't easy.

Still, I am upset that I'm a Squib, I'm upset that Noah gets to decide for me when he got all he ever wanted, and I'm upset that mum and dad just don't seem to understand that. How could they, when they were always magic? Maybe it would be better if I were a muggle, at least they don't know the wizarding world is real, they aren't jealous of anything. But I'm not jealous, I swear I'm not, I'm just so mad.

At supper, Terry and Noah talk about some bloke named Sirius Black. I'm not sure if I should care or not now that I'm without a doubt a Squib but when they mention how he's Harry's godfather I pay attention. Apparently he had been in Azkaban for years because everyone thought he had something to do with Harry's parents death. In the past year he had escaped and then made his way onto Hogwarts grounds, I didn't really know about this because I hadn't been keeping up with Noah's letters. Why does all this strange stuff keep happening at Hogwarts nowadays anyways? Last year Noah told us about how a giant snake awoke and was petrifying people, mum wanted him to stay home but dad convinced her Noah was going to be okay. Anyway Sirius had somehow made it out of Hogwarts and thankfully no one got harmed while he was there. It sounded a bit better than last year, at least. Still it's worrying how dangerous Hogwarts can be.

Mum said she didn't want to talk about those scandals because they make her too anxious so they started talking about other things instead. Noah offered to take me to the park the next day with Terry and they agreed, seeing as the boys are thirteen mum and dad suppose they can look after me well enough. I do not like being talked about as if I do not have a voice but I don't interrupt, because getting dad angry right now wouldn't do well for anybody especially since I'm not sure what he thinks of what I said earlier.

That night just before I go to bed, Noah stops me before I can enter my room. "Hey, Libs," He says in a soft way.

"What is it, Noah?" I ask nicely, a bit tired.

"I'm sorry I didn't want to share my magic with you,"

"Wah...?"

Just like that Noah plunged himself at me in a hug, dropping his head to rest against my shoulder and pulling me close. His shoulders shake a bit and my neck starts to feel a bit moist. He's crying right in my arms, and it's the first time I've seen him done so since he fell off his broom when he was ten and I was seven. I bring my hand up and brush my fingers through his hair, because I think he might like it and I know it's something mum would do.

"I'm so sorry..." He apologizes profusely, his voice wobbly.

"It's okay, it's fine Noah. I'm glad I couldn't hex you off your broom,"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

***updated* A guest review reminded me of something to do with Sirius so I changed the little bit that he was mentioned. I am bad at remembering canon. Anywho thankfully it doesn't really effect the story so the change isn't all that glaring :)**

**If you want more background on the Lawson family roots I suggest checking out ****Lawson: A Family History**** on my profile!**

**So this was going to be multi-chaptered (though a short story still) but now I kinda feel like this would be a lovely one-shot all it's own. If I get reviews telling me to continue or if I have the urge to I will. I think Muggles and Squibs can use portkeys and Floo powder just because those things are kinda magical objects themselves, and for passing through King's Cross I think Squibs might be able to and took artistic liberty with that since we're not really sure what Squibs can do differently from muggles. Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Year 11_

Mum makes us a big breakfast with waffles and sausages, setting out the fancy napkins and expensive dishes that I've never actually seen being used. I think she is just trying to impress Terry. He's the first friend either one of us has had over, and he never got the chance to see the old home. She asks him who his dad and mum are and my mum recognizes them, says how she had a few classes with his dad, Thomas, before. Dad doesn't say much at all. Terry tells us more about Harry than Noah ever would and I suspect it's only because that's such common ground for all of us. Then Noah gives me a look signalling 'are you ready, Libby?' and I smile at him, hoping he reads it as a yes.

He tells mum we're ready to go and she nods, telling us to have fun. Once we dump our dishes into the sink we head out the door. Out on the lawn Noah looks around the street a bit. He waits for me and Terry to catch up to his side and then turns to me. He doesn't know where the nearest park is, so I step ahead in front.

"You kiddin', mate? This is your neighbourhood, how do you not know where the park is?" Terry asks incredulously.

"We moved very recently," Noah answers, I could hear in his voice that he was trying not to sound bothered.

Honestly I might not really be the best guide, I've only been to the park once as it is on the property of my new school. Mum took me there to see it and I suppose it's alright. Trying to remember right now I am afraid that I might lead us off course but once the sidewalk starts to curve I can make out the chain link fence that surrounds the park and smile a little at how quickly I memorized the way there. Seeing as it is only a couple blocks away it is not a great feet, but I have always been one to appreciate the small pleasures. Apparently restless once we actually get on the park grounds Noah races towards the playground. Terry breaks out after him trying to over take my brother's speed and I am left trying to catch up, my much shorter legs doing me no good. Once I get there they are sitting on a small rectangular platform connecting a wooden bridge to some monkey bars.

Ignoring them, as Noah probably only suggested going to the park so they could be away from the house, I plop down on the sand and start shoving the dry sand on top away to get to the moist layer. "Oi, what're you doing?" Terry calls.

I look up dazedly to see that he's staring back at me, expecting an answer. "Oh, I'll be building a sand castle, or a moat... something nice,"

Warily my eyes shift a bit to Noah as I'm talking, expecting that he might want me to butt out of his time with Terry. Instead he is looking off somewhere else in the distance, seemingly not at all caring. "Hogwarts, then? That's a castle,"

The name still pricks all over me and I hope my wince isn't visible at all. I manage to tell him that perhaps it will be but since I've never been, whatever I make will probably not look like Hogwarts at all. As I explain this I pile wet sand clumps atop each other, and start to mold it as best I can into a cylindrical shape. At the corner of my eye I make out a blurred movement then after being a bit confused I stare at it, realizing that the motion had been a small piece of dry wood floating in the air. Quickly I turn to the two boys, two wizards, to see which is responsible. It's Terry, wand in hand where any muggle can see, drifting the wood closer.

"What're you doing? You're not supposed-"

"Shh, look," He says, and I notices that Noah's looking at my castle now so I figure it must be okay. I turn back to my sand castle, where the wood is etching little windows into the castle, he tears down a section of it using the now spare sand as material for a little drawbridge, he scraps around the sides to form turrets and towers masterfully and as I continue to watch it only gets more and more beautiful. It is simply amazing. When the castle seems to be finished up he transfigures the wood into a small plastic shovel and digs out a moat around it, then he lifts a good amount of dry sand and makes it hover over the moat, in a second the sand turns into a shower of water and splashes into the moat.

"That was-"

"Fantastic? I know. The hardest thing was the shovel bit, Transfiguration spells are a right pain in the arse,"

"It's not allowed..."I say quietly. Before, when Noah was at home, I would not have cared so much about the whole magic-using thing because we were technically allowed to and Noah couldn't have done anything that complicated anyways. Not to mention we weren't in the muggle world, in a muggle city, in a muggle park.

"That's why it'll be our secret," He says. Just another thing I have to keep for a wizard. "Did everything I could to make it look like Hogwarts. When school starts again you'll get to go on a boat into the place with all the other first years,"

If things had been different, if I were invited to Hogwarts, getting to see a model of the magical school and talking about what's waiting for me would have been thrilling. But it's just a sand castle, perhaps it will crumble to pieces, rainfall could wash it away, or later on some little kids might come to the park and kick it down. This is as close as I'll ever willingly get to Hogwarts. It is not my future, this pipe dream made of sand. But what is my future lays just before me and I can see it from here, with its red bricks and windows and foundation, something strong would be needed to take it down. It is so solid.

Terry and Noah get into a conversation between themselves about Hogwarts again and they mention someone named Cho Chang and another girl named Lisa something for a bit and quidditch is brought up but I mostly stopped listening. Soon enough some other kids join us at the park and Noah and Terry move to the corner so they're out of the way. I stay right where I am, seeing that I'm actually using the park as it's meant to be, building little cars and roads as best as I can with sand, the shovel Terry transfigured proving very useful. A kid my own age comes up to me, I see the end of his runner before he even speaks.

"Do you want to play tag with us?"

I have never heard of that game before, but the boy says it in such a way that he expects me to understand. I can only assume that all muggle children at one point learn what it is, and it must be a game, but no one on the telly has ever mentioned it before. Hopefully he does not sense the confusion I had initially had, I think I'll pretend like I know what he's talking about and pick it up while it's going on. Nodding, I get up from the ground and make my way over to the playground where a group of kids all are, waiting for their friends return. There are about seven of them, a couple look to be about five while the rest are around my own size. Nervously I look over my shoulder at Noah and Terry, the latter looks more alarmed. Maybe because he thinks I'm a witch that I shouldn't be playing with a bunch of muggles, but Noah and I both know the truth. I am more like these strangers than I am like my family.

Thankfully I am not the first one to be known as what they call 'it', because that person seems to have the hardest role in the game. The kid who invited me to play goes onto the ground and he starts counting though I don't know what he's counting to exactly or what for, but everyone around me understands and start scattering, far away from him. I begin to follow another girl around my own age with dark flowing hair but swerve a bit to the side in case she minds. The boy had stopped counting, but I didn't catch the number he went up to. He's not coming over in this direction, towards the monkey bars, and I'm not sure if that's good or not until he corners someone at the slides and they seem panicked. Okay, being around whoever is 'it' is a bad thing. He taps the girl he cornered and she sighs, gets on the ground and tells everyone she's counting to thirty.

After a few rounds of this I am only caught once and luckily I observed enough to understand what I'm supposed to do. Some of the kids leave, including the one that had initially invited me to play, and soon enough it is only me, the girl with the dark hair and a boy with short curly hair and menacing eyes. We're walking across the bridge to the platform Noah and Terry had been sitting on when suddenly my feet are knocked out from under me and I'm swishing across the platform, falling hard onto the sandy ground below. The side of the platform scraped my leg as I fell and it stings, and so does my face as tears begin to fall. The kid who pushed me, the boy, starts laughing at what he'd done and I'm just sitting there trying to understand.

Everything with the muggle children had gone well until that moment.

Then there are two people at my side, Noah and Terry and they're covering me just a bit from the boy. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, prat?" My brother shouts angrily.

The boy does not look as confident as he had a moment ago. "Yeah, don't go pickin' around on girls smaller than you!" Terry says, also stepping up for me.

Noah jumps up onto the platform and punches the boy square in the jaw, the girl with the dark hair had already retreated to a different area of the park once I had been pushed. A trickle of blood starts flowing from the boy's cheek and it upsets me quite a bit, I didn't want him to get hurt and I really wish he hadn't hurt me in the first place. The boy brings a hand to his nose and there are instant tears welling in his own eyes. He jumps off the platform and without a word to any of us he begins speedily walking away, wiping the blood from his face. Noah grabs my wrist.

"Come on, mates, we're going to go tell his mum about this,"

"But Noah, you punched him! And you really shouldn't have-"

He doesn't seem to care what I have to say. "No one gets away with trying to hurt you, Libby. I don't care how low ratting is," Terry seems entirely on board with this as his face takes on a stony expression. For the first time in my life I am now afraid of what someone can do with a wand. The boy doesn't seem to notice us stalking behind him but it seems that he's stopped cradling his face, his posture straightens.

Finally he turns up a walkway and for a second we all pause in case he notices our movement and recognizes us but he doesn't even gaze this way, entirely focused on getting into his own two story brownstone house with shoddy windows and wild plants growing in odd places. Again we follow at a brisk pace, walking up his steps and then onto his stoop where Terry knocks on the door, banging his fist against the wood. Seconds later the door is opened to reveal a short woman with curly hair and I assume her to be the boy's mum. She looks like a nice lady.

"Hello, mam, your son was at the park just now, correct?" She nods, and Noah continues. I stand rigidly. "Well he pushed my little sister here down a platform and she scraped her calf-" he points at my leg, not bleeding but missing an obvious layer of skin. "because of it,"

She cups her mouth and looks incredibly sorry for it. "Oh dear, he was being a bother and a bully, no wonder he came in without a word. Thank you for telling me, I can assure you that this won't go unpunished,"

My brother nods and we turn as one unit, I can hear the door shut behind us and a bit of yelling as the woman is presumptuously making good on her word. We do not go back to the park but instead pass it, I suppose making our way home again. Noah had long ago released his grip on my wrist.

"I'm surprised you didn't hex him right there and then for doing that, Libby." Terry notes. "If I were you I would have given him the jelly-legs jinx before even getting to the ground. By accident, of course. You must have really good control,"

I'm about to tell him that that would be impossible for me but stop short, remembering that I'm not supposed to. He already thinks I have my letter from Hogwarts, that I'll be getting sorted and doing all the things he got to do so I wonder how he'll feel as he watches all the eleven year old's walk up in a line to be placed in a house and I'm not one of them. Surly he'll be excited for me, knowing that Noah's little sister will be going to Hogwarts that year. Will he be confused? Will the answer immediately come to him, that I'm a Squib? Or will he lean over to Noah, and ask him why I'm not there? It would be easier to just tell him the truth now, and save me from constantly hearing about how much fun I'll have at a place that I'll never really go to. Even easier for Noah, who can get the shame of having a Squib sister over with now.

"She's alright," Noah says.

We don't tell mum and dad about the boy who pushed me.

It's Noah's birthday today and since he always gets to spend it at home seeing as it's during the summer mum and dad try to make it very special, with a big cake, whatever food he wants to eat and spending the day doing whatever he desires. My birthdays are like this too, but my parents used to be sad about it because it is during February, I would never get to be with them for it during Hogwarts if I were going. Now I get to spend a lot of them with mum and dad. We went to Diagon Alley and got butterbeers, then Terry and Noah separated themselves from us. I wanted to go too but Noah told me to bugger off and quit being annoying so I was forced to stay with mum and dad. When we regrouped they had a dozen sports magazines between them and each had a huge lollipop that neither were paying much mind to. Now he is fourteen years old and will be entering his fourth year of Hogwarts once he gets back to school, and I'll be going to the state school a couple blocks away. He'll be in Scotland and I in Birmingham.

Funny how I thought we'd be going to the same school and ending up so far away.

He shows me a magazine about some international competition featuring teams from all over Europe and North America, like Portugal, France, Canada and all of that. It's amazing to think of how many wizards and witches there are all over the world, hidden and intertwined with the muggle one so that both can live in harmony. Noah lets me keep the magazine even though I don't really care to have it.

Eventually, Noah lets Terry know that I'm a Squib.

He lets the secret out about two weeks before school starts again. We're in the living room and Phillip is resting in my lap sweetly. He has been very friendly towards Terry and Noah so I'm glad he's not one of those mean cats that claws at whomever. Knowing that we threw away our magic chess board Noah borrowed one from someone at Hogwarts, a professor he claimed, and he and Terry were playing it on the coffee table. One of Terry's horses has picked off one of Noah's pawns. I watch in a bit of interest, previously I was watching some telly in my room but once I got bored of that I came downstairs to see what everyone else was doing. I believe it's a game that I can play as the pieces are simply enchanted already and don't take additional effort from the player.

"So do you have all your things for Hogwarts yet, Libby? Like a wand or some robes?" He asks conversationally, not looking away from the board.

"Why are you always talking about her first year at Hogwarts, Terry? It doesn't matter,"

"Well because it's exciting, I guess, sorry if I'm the only one who thinks so," Terry says, picking up on Noah's irritation.

"I haven't," I answer quietly, hoping that it eases the tension.

It doesn't help with anything. Terry raises an inquisitive brow and glances up at me for a second from his spot on the carpeted floor. They're such a nice shade of blue, and his light brown hair falls onto his brow a bit. "Hmm... why not? Seems like now would be a better time than any seeing as the summer's almost over,"

Mum would call his blathering 'incessant Ravenclaw nosiness' and I'm not sure what dad would say, given the circumstances. He might understand better, at least. Noah stops moving entirely, the chess piece he's holding stopped mid air. "She won't be getting anything for Hogwarts," He says simply.

"Why not?"

"Because she's not going, you twit!"

"Oh, would she rather go to Beauxbatons or something? I'm not sure if they actually accept British students-"

"They wouldn't accept her either way, Terry. She's not a witch," He says solemnly. I am left feeling a bit panicked and fix my gaze on Phillip for some sort of comfort. It all just became so awkward.

Terry is quiet for a moment, presumably shocked by this. "Then what-"

"Do I have to spell things out for you, Terry? She's a Squib. She won't be going to Hogwarts, the whole reason we moved here was so she could go to state school and try her hand at the muggle world. She won't be getting a wand or robes and she won't be sorted, so there you have it. Now unless that bothers you an awful lot I'd like to get back to our game."

Then I do look up at Terry and he's sort of looking into his lap like he's not sure what exactly to think. I don't blame him, probably the only Squib he's familiar with is Filch and I'm certain that he hasn't put up a sparkling reputation for the lot of us. The lot of us. It can be so easy to forget sometimes that the 'us' I'm apart of isn't magical anymore. Terry seems to have problems adjusting to the information as well as he still looks flabbergasted. Noah places his chess piece down

"I believe it's your turn."

We go to King's Cross Station to say goodbye to them. No one mentions how this year I would have gone on the train too. Terry didn't seem to mind too much that I'm a Squib, he just continued playing chess.

I quickly make a few friends at muggle school. Erika and Lucy and Sarah, three giggling girls that have known each other nearly their whole lives. They like pop music as much as I do and they have got those large chunky cellphones that mum says I'm too young to have. I heard her tell dad under her breathe how horrid the technology looks and how it's a wonder any muggle would want them, let alone her daughter. I am not too bothered by this, mum just hasn't been around them long enough to understand. Noah sends a few letters and he tells us about the Triwizard tournament and how Harry Potter somehow got in even though there's an age restriction. He says how Terry will be coming during Christmas time and I find myself anxious for their return.

I've had to lie to them about a couple things. Like how there's a TV in my room and not the living room because mum and dad don't like the telly but still want me to have one if I want. I tell them I moved in from the country side and was home-schooled which was the truth, but that we moved because dad got a new job which wasn't. It was Sarah who gave me the idea, when she suggested such a thing. Never have I spoken to them about Noah, it would feel like just talking about him would give too much away. Months go by in school and they learn about a lot of things that I would not have, and always I am reminded that next year I will be attending the sixth-form college school which is somewhat closer to my house but I would still feel as if I were starting over. In one of his letters Noah said that Terry wishes me luck.

Christmastime comes again and I get a prolonged break from school. One of the nice things about going to muggle school is that during the weekends I get to do whatever I want while staying far away from any learning establishment, I am not confined within its grounds. Also I get to see mum and dad much more often and I can go to the convenience store whenever I'd like after school to get treats or during the weekends, I am almost certain that it is like the Hogwarts student trips to Hogsmeade, except every single week and I don't have to wait until I am in third year. I am trying to come up with a list that makes going to muggle school instead somewhat decent, or at least not horrid.

Lucy, Sarah and Erika are also on that list.

When Terry and Noah come in from the fire pit the former is much more relaxed and joyful than he had been during his last visit. He comes and gives me a great big hug and says 'hello, Libby ears' right into my ear, I giggle and hug him back. He asks me how school has been and I tell him alright, then I explain how I want a cellphone but mum won't let me have one and he laughs at the whole thing. Terry was nice, too, he said hello. They go upstairs to unload their things into Noah's room and I decide to retreat back to my room but as I get to the landing Terry notices me from Noah's open room and stops me.

"Libby, I got you something for Christmas," He says, almost ruefully.

"You did? I'm sorry Terry, I didn't-"

"No, don't worry about it," He assures me. "Here," He brings his arm out from behind his back and with it is a snow globe clutched in his fingers, inside is a little wand and instead of snow the globe is filled with tiny sparkles of light. "I figured since you wouldn't be going to Diagon Alley to get a wand, I would get a wand for you from Diagon Alley. This one was just begging to have you,"

"Oh" I stare wondrously at the bits of light flashing and reflecting, dancing as they fall into piles at the bottom of the globe. "T-thank you, maybe you should have waited for Christmas morning to-"

"No, no" He shakes his head, then practically shoves the gift into my hands. "They made a mistake with you, Libby, I need to correct is as soon as wizardly possible,"

"Terry will you bugger off my sister and get your dim arse back in here?! My mum will have a fit if this room isn't tidy by the end of the day,"

Terry gives me a little wave before lazily swinging himself around. "My arse is dim, you say?" Terry is back in my brother's room and I'm sure some sort of clever word battle ensues but I don't stick around to here it. Going back to my room I place the globe on my bedside table and let myself get lost in the sparkling lights trance. There is no crying for lost magic, because a wizard boy tried his best to replace it.

* * *

><p><em>Year 12<em>

I know a lot more about the Triwizard tournament now, mostly because for over half a year now mum and dad have been talking about it to each other in whispers. It's February now and I've just turned twelve so Noah's fourth year has only three months left to finish before summer starts again and then he's in fifth. He's not quite three years older than me but just a few months short of it. They are incredibly worried about what's going on at Hogwarts, the challenges that the champions face are always dangerous and someone is always at the risk of death. Nothing like this ever happens at muggle schools, mum says sometimes, and it makes me a little proud that in this respect, she prefers my education over Hogwarts.

Phillip is a full-grown adult now, he likes to sit around and nap quite a lot and doesn't play nearly as much as he used to, but he still has his moments of full-on cat craziness. It's kind of funny when he fritters about the house in his adrenaline dazes, jumping off of pieces of furniture. Dad gets right mad over it but that only makes the whole thing more hysterical. Mum has made a couple friends in the neighbourhood, mind that they practically had to force her into interactions but at least they are not at all grumpy as everyone in my old village had been.

Some say that he-who-shall-not-be-named is back, but mum gets all mad whenever Noah mentions it in letters or whenever dad might bring it up. He teases her that she shouldn't be bothered by this since she's a Gryffindor but she says that anyone would be with two children involved in the magical world, especially with one of them being in Harry Potter's year. I don't think I can really count but maybe it's worse for me since I'm a Squib but really I'm not sure what the dark lord could possibly think of my ilk. Does he detest us for having no power of our own, or does he use our magical heritage as an example of how mudbloods could be stealing magic for themselves and taking it away from where it 'rightfully belongs'? I suppose it might not matter, because he might not be gone.

Some people think he might be around still because Harry Potter somehow had his name in the goblet, and who else would want him to get into a competition that he could potentially die in? Noah says some people at school are even jealous and angry with Harry for getting into the competition, that they don't trust him, but Noah doesn't really care about that and thinks the whole entire thing is stupid anyways and I have to agree. It seems the sort of competition where the only gains, other than the money, is bragging rights over others, and the loss could equal death. Not exactly proportional.

The school year ends very much the way it had begun, myself as a Squib and Noah at Hogwarts. The rumours that were started months ago about you-know-who returning turn out to be a lot more valid than anyone would have liked to have thought, Harry being in the tournament as a sort of plot to get him to some strange graveyard where some of his blood was taken in the hopes that the dark one would defeat him there. Luckily Harry got away, but a Hufflepuff champion passed away. The ministry still doesn't believe it despite Dumbledore the headmaster's support, dad lets me read the story in the newspaper, one of the only magical things mum and dad bring into the house. It is all very intriguing but in every picture with Harry he seems rather annoyed and I do not blame him, as it seems very bothersome to have the authority not believe you.

Sometimes mum and dad discuss whether or not they should let Noah go to Hogwarts again next school year.

If that ends up happening than I feel sorry for Noah, I know what it's like to expect to go to Hogwarts and be told, in whatever way, that I am not allowed. At least he is welcome.

When summer comes Noah arrives in the fire pit alone. He has a grave, serious expression on his face and I know that this last year was not as wonderful as all the others. He brings his things upstairs and I follow him, hoping to get more in-tell on the events of the Triwizard tournament. But Noah doesn't let me into his room, he stops me at the doorway, blocking passage with his arm. I stare up at him, confused. He must have grown a bit because his face is intimidating in a way that it never has been before. Was his nose always so strongly defined on his face? Did his grey eyes always have the power to sear?

"What is it, Libby?"

"Um, well, I was wondering about-"

"I won't tell you anything. You know all about it, I'm sure, dad wouldn't keep that sort of thing away from you," I don't say anything, because he's right in some ways. He sighs, then picks out some crumbled paper or what not from his pocket and holds it out for me. "Here, Terry wanted me to give you this since he couldn't come,"

"Where is he?" I ask, as I take the dishevelled paper and hold it gingerly with my fingertips, afraid I might activate some sort of charm. Going back to the sand castle, it seems like the sort of thing he would do.

"He has a family, you know, one that he does occasionally spend time with," Now Noah starts to sound bored and I can tell that he expects me to head out but I can't help but stay right where I am.

"Have you looked at it?"

"No, he gave it to me just before I got off the train. Told me not to, and Gryffindors aren't the only ones loyal to their friends. Honestly I should sock him for trying to send my little sister some sort of notes but I get the feeling he just wants to cheer you up,"

"Why would he feel the need to do that?"

He grunts, now definitely irritated. "I don't _know_, Libby, but I'll be sure to ask! Probably feel likes a right arse for assuming you were a witch nearly every time he visited though that's my fault. Now quit asking me so many questions!" Not allowing me time for one more word Noah slams the door in my face, leaving me with a note and a fuzzy feeling.

Slowly I walk across the hall to my own room, carefully unfolding the note as I approach the door. It is not some long, scrolling letter but rather a doodle with some words over each caricature and a caption at the bottom. I am depicted as one of the drawings, it is not awfully crafted and I can sort of tell it's supposed to be me with my long blonde hair and green circles for eyes. I am smiling and facing the viewer, and over my head is my name "Libby', labelled in bubbly letters. To the other side of the page is a sort of grotesque person with bad teeth, scraggly hair, a huge frown, a lantern in one hand and at their feet a cute, orange cat with yellow eyes. Above this doodle is the name 'Filch'. And above both of us, like a title, is 'Squib'. Below both of our pictures the caption reads: 'No two Squibs are alike. Probably none are as good as you!'.

I'm not sure what to make of the picture, as now more than ever I have an image that gives a different light to Filch, the only other Squib I have ever heard of. Mum and dad would probably tell me about some famous ones if they knew any, so all I've ever had as a reference for them was him. It seems a little sad to me, how different we must be, but still the thought is so touching. At least someone not related to me doesn't think of Squibs in one big general, bad light. Terry thinks I'm good and having him directly tell me so in writing is better than just assuming he does, better even than getting the globe from him last Christmas. Once I step inside my room I look for a pin and once I do I hang it on my wall just above my bedside table. Maybe Terry even thinks of me as a friend.

But as memories of twinkling blue eyes and lopsided smiles surface, I begin to realize that I might think of _him_ as more than that.

Later at supper Noah asks what was on the note and mum and dad get curious about it too. Noah explains the story to them and they become just as keen on my answer as well. It didn't really cross my mind that the note felt very private until Noah had started fishing for information, and I find that I want to keep it to myself. Which is really strange, I've never had a problem before telling mum or dad anything, we are as close as three people can be. I act as nonchalantly as I can. "Just all the trouble you two got into, like mixing up ingredients in the potions lab and setting dungbombs in the Great Hall. Stuff I can use on you later... oh, wait, I just told," I say, feigning innocence.

Noah goes entirely red and I almost snort into my plate, I haven't seen him quite like this since his pants were magically pulled down while trying to find a wand at Ollivander's. "Wha... but I-"

"You shouldn't have been such a bother about it, Noah, or else I wouldn't have said," I singsong, smiling mischievously. I don't think I've ever been able to get this sort of reaction out of him before.

Mum gives him a disapproving stare and dad goes on to tell him how immature and stupid those things were to do, and how they were underneath Noah. He says that Terry was being a good friend by telling me and that he should really try to make sure to clean up his act before fifth year, as the way he was going, according to dad, no witch at Hogwarts would give him a second look. Noah gets even redder and I have to let out a little laugh, one which thankfully goes largely ignored. Not even trying to defend himself anymore, Noah resigns to silence and there are no more questions thrown my way. Maybe it was a little underhanded the way I went about it, but I see it as getting back at him for all the times he's tried to blackmail me though admittedly those times have always been in short supply.

Later on during the summer, Noah tells me something my parents wouldn't. The Order Of the Phoenix had been reinstated, but the ministry refused to support its legitimacy and fully believes that Voldemort has not, in fact, returned. He says that everyone at Hogwarts is divided more than ever, and if Voldemort turns out to be alive again than all Mudbloods and muggles are in grave danger where few people seem to be willing to help, let alone the head minister himself, Cornelius Fudge. As Noah tells me all this I grow terrified, for everyone at Hogwarts, Harry Potter, Terry, Noah... and just thinking about what this could mean for my muggle friends makes my blood freeze and my heart slow. A whole entire world of people could be destroyed in my life time. Noah then tells me he isn't sure what to believe, that all the students at Hogwarts like to pretend as if nothing is going on and don't say much about it, and the only reason he told me was because he thinks I have the right to know. He is worried about what the next year at Hogwarts will bring, if even more dangerous things will happen, but assures me that he has to be apart of it, that he has to know what's going on and that he has to fight if it comes to that.

He says I have to be brave for mum and dad.

I'm not sure what he means, but I don't ask.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Second Installment of My Brother's Keeper Series! Decided to continue with this because I still had a lot of ideas and places this could go. What had happened with the trio in the park actually happened to me when I was very small, my older sister and her friend (who has become a family friend) like beat him up and then told his mom XD the kid never said they hurt him though because he didn't want to admit a couple girls beat him up. It was kinda hard to work around that in the story since Terry and Noah are guys but just decided the kid didn't need to be around to be told on.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Year 11 - Noah_

Noah had been entirely impressed; by the floating candles giving off a charming light, the starry Dreamscape featured above them doubling as a ceiling and the assortment of dishes laid out on each one of the four tables making up the floor space. All eyes had been on them, the first years, entering the Great Hall nervously towards the article of clothing that would decide for them what house they would be placed in, therefore determining many major factors of their lives at Hogwarts. However Noah, through word of mouth around his wizarding village, was already aware that his own opinion played a great role in whatever final decision the hat would come to.

Everything before this moment had been completely unremarkable, as on the train ride Noah had managed to squeeze into a spot that had been granted to him by a group of rowdy fourth years, and as they came into the station after having been shepherded by some sort of giant, getting into a boat with a few strangers Noah had found that he did not actually have any friends besides his own sister_._

It was a bit of a depressing thought.

That and he knew that Harry Potter was several people behind him in the line and he was what most of them were excited to see. By now surely it had gotten around the whole of Hogwarts that Harry was here this year. He, Noah, knew from the train, when a kid came in saying that the boy who lived was also on the locomotive. There was a sort of novelty in realizing that a legend would be attending school with you, that they might be in your house or classes, seeing them in person.

The novelty hadn't quite rubbed off yet.

Being led to the area around the podium Noah and his peers were met with an old hat resting on a stool. Professor McGonagall explained the process of the sorting and afterwards they began the ceremony. One after another each student ahead of Noah sat on the stool and had the hat, after a moment, bellow out their new house. Finally it was Noah's turn, he slowly made his way to the stool. In minutes he would be in a house and throughout the rest of his life he would feel obligated to it with a strong sense of loyalty. The idea seemed suddenly very strange, that his entire character would now be judged by what an old hat had to say and the stereotypes that go along with each house.

He sat down on the old stool and McGonagall set the hat atop his head.

_"Look at what we have here, a head that never quits! You think quite a lot don't you? Yes I can see it all here, but I get the distinct feeling that you could be brave, if the situation called for it. You could be prepared for anything. Didn't you used to want to be a Gryffindor? There's still a longing there, though it's very quiet now. Is that what you would like? Well... with no objections, you better be.._."

"RAVENCLAW!" He shouts into the Great Hall and everyone from said house claps politely, no where near as pleased with new first years as the other houses had been.

Never did Noah imagine himself joining the Ravenclaws but for some reason, when the hat suggested that becoming a Gryffindor was very much a possibility, he did not feel the familiar tug of admiration he used to feel for the gold and red fitted house, he supposes he knew in his heart of hearts or whatever that it was not where he belonged. Though as he sat down at the Ravenclaw table he started having second thoughts, as no one seemed particularly keen on meeting him. Then again none of them seemed all that friendly towards each other, either. Noah used to think his mum was just exaggerating when she would remark, away from their dad of course, that Ravenclaws were so snobbish and academically competitive that they couldn't even form real friendships. Now he could see where she was coming from.

Maybe the sorting hat was trying to tell him that he didn't need any friends.

Once the feast is thoroughly through and still no one has introduced themselves to Noah or really bothered to look his way students start getting up from their seats. A girl wearing the blue and bronze vest of the Ravenclaw house stands at the end of the table, a serious expression on her face.

"All first years, gather here!"

Their dorm room was cylindrical and contained five beds in a half circle covered in blue blankets with four posters and drapes attached. There were also exactly five first year boys, and momentarily Noah wondered if they somehow knew there would be five of them or the room magically spurred the amount necessary immediately after sorting was over. Maybe he would ask the prefect from earlier seeing as Ravenclaws usually liked any chance at showing off their array of knowledge. Getting settled in, the other boys with a lot of energy dashed to their chosen beds leaving Noah with one on the right end, though he didn't really care which bed was his to begin with.

Some of them chose to go back down to the common room seeing as it wasn't exactly lights out but Noah chose to stay, not feeling up for any sort of meet and greet that could be taking place downstairs. Or proper reunions between friends. Another boy, oddly the one with the only bed next to Noah's, also decided to stay within the confines of the dormitory. It seemed best to just ignore him.

"Oi,"

Was someone talking to him?

"Oi!"

"What?"

"You don't mind if my side gets a bit messy, do you? Are you one of those neat freaks?"

"Uh...no?"

"Good!" The other boy walked around his bed to meet Noah and stuck out his hand. "My name's Terry Boot,"

Noah stared down at the offered hand for a moment, then grasped it. "I'm Noah Lawson,"

_Year 12 - Libby_

We've started learning about trigonometry in muggle school and I have a very good feeling that it is no where on the curriculum for any year at Hogwarts. Actually I bet most of what I learn at muggle school is entirely different from what they do in the magical world, the only one that I have noticed with any similarities is some of the lessons we learn in science class on the subject of something called 'chemistry'. It basically has to do with the elements of the earth and being able to mix them around to get different effects, and reminds me very much of what potions class would be like as it also has to do with reactions from ingredients. But normally in chemistry we only mix around what my teacher calls 'safe' chemicals to get different colours or smells, where in potions the results can make a person lucky or perfectly disguise themselves. I must admit that chemistry is rather bland compared to potions, but at least if we get something wrong it won't have any serious consequences.

I suppose history class might also be quite reflective of Muggle History in Hogwarts but somehow I imagine that the Hogwarts course is somewhat different, as if they don't get the whole picture. Because if they did, wouldn't there be less class disparity in the wizarding world based on a blood caste system, or at least less discrimination? Wouldn't properly learning about them make wizards and witches more compassionate, more understanding? Muggles have their own achievements as well, ones that would and had evolved and became better over time and created _change._ It seemed that all wizards knew was how to stay the same.

A lot of the time, because of the advantage of magic, they probably didn't think they needed to.

If my parents were more like the purebloods, if my dad's line hadn't been cast aside by the House of Black a long time ago and my mum didn't come from mixed blood, than I would have been disowned as soon as my eleventh birthday passed last year. I wouldn't really be thinking about this as much as I am, if my parents didn't speak about Noah's letter's in hushed voices, or if Noah didn't mention how he would have to fight, whatever that means. Why would a student need to do anything about such a huge problem, other than learn? It's scary sometimes, being at school around a load of people who don't see any impending disaster while at home the tension is constantly in the air.

Two entirely different worlds that I drift between.

Gwen sleeps over twice during October. I only just met her when school started again, on the first week of sixth-form classes. She's in my art class, even though she's a year older. Introducing herself to me and Lucy it had been clear that she was a very outgoing sort of girl and got along with us easily. Our friendship was formed just like that. She is more experienced than myself or Lucy or any of the girls, she talks to everyone all the time and doesn't care much about what anyone thinks. Although I've had no idea why she would approach us of all people, but apparently, during the first sleep over, she confided something in me.

According to Gwen, I have a reputation as an oddball. It is not a particularly known perception but strong enough that the lower years know a bit about it. She says it stems more from last year, and the strange words that I would occasionally use that had come across as gibberish. However I am not too surprised by this, as I had accidentally made reference to such things as muggles and quidditch a number of times, but I hadn't realized that those mistakes would follow me to college. We moved on in conversation from that but later on I asked Erika if people really did see me in that light and why anyone might think that. She had said something along the lines of what Gwen had told me, but elaborated even further in that she explained that I just had a way about me.

This didn't make any sense so I prodded her further, and she had went about telling me in a gentle way as Erika, I have noticed, is prone to do. Last year when I first came to state school there had been a way about me, in my voice and even in my movements, that separated me from them. Erika could not put a finger on what exactly had set me apart, but it began to dissipate as the year went on until, eventually, it had stopped being present. I may have wanted an answer as to why the muggles felt the way they did about me and if I had heard that earlier, though I'm not sure when exactly, this would have been sad to listen to. That I had somehow lost what made me special.

Now, I don't think I mind it as much.

Before Noah had left for the new school year he gave me a secret list of words. When he sends letters, if he uses any of these words, than I will have their real meaning on this sheet of paper so that mum and dad won't be tipped off. I didn't ask why we would need to use masked words for a secret code between us and he didn't tell me. So far it has only helped me feel more anxious about him being at Hogwarts with the way he spoke of the place recently.

That had only lasted until the beginning of November, when his letter had seemed more jaded than usual and I noticed one or two of the words from the list. One was the word 'Hogsmeade' which I recognized as meaning 'ministry' and the other had been 'butterbeer' which was meant to be taken as Dumbledore. He had been describing the regular school trips when in reality it was filled with hidden messages for my eyes. My parents commented that the trip must have been very nice and it was great that Noah was still enjoying school despite all the changes that had been occurring.

"Mum, can I take the letter, please? I'd like to... ask Noah more about his trip, in my own letter. I don't think I could remember all the things he mentioned,"

"Alright Libby dear." Mum says easily, handing the letter to me and already talking to dad about something else, it sounds like their schedule for the week. Sometimes it seems like they never even lived in the wizarding world to begin with, the way neither of them openly speak about it anymore. Nowadays I'm starting to think that this is less for my sake than it used to be.

Heading off to my own room, I had scanned the entirety of the letter before entering. As soon as I stepped in a tossed the letter onto my bed and went towards my vanity, picking out the folded code words. It wasn't in his penmanship, the lettering looks too delicate so I had assumed upon first seeing it that he charmed a quill to write for him. The idea was helpful, as his handwriting is just plain horrid.

With both the note and letter in hand I cross-checked between them,moving my finger along each line and glancing at the code words to compare. Hogsmeade, ministry... Hagrid, false... beans, accusation... Hogs Head, overthrow...butterbeer, Dumbledore... chocolate frogs, insane...

Ministry...

false...

accusation...

overthrow...

Dumbledore...

_Insane._

The meaning was jumbled and chaotic and I wasn't sure exactly what I was supposed to get from this. Apparently it had to do with the the ministry and headmaster Dumbledore. There had been an overthrow of some kind and that something about this is insane. Were the ministry falsely accused, or was it Dumbledore? Or perhaps someone that he hadn't created a coded word for and therefore had no way of distinguishing? What was the accusation? It seemed a bit ridiculous and frustrating now, as there was no way I could fully understand what was going on from what little I had been told beforehand. But there was order and a structure, there had to be, because Noah wouldn't send anything that I didn't understand. This isn't fun and games to him.

Chronologically, it starts at the ministry. They must have made a false accusation. It could only be one against Dumbledore, as he was the only other noun mentioned. An overthrow of some kind also had to be on the part of the ministry, as from what I've heard of Dumbledore he doesn't seem to be the dramatic type, and in being mentioned next it would be odd to relate him as being responsible for anything beforehand. The in between parts must have been what happened to him by the actions of the ministry.

Dumbledore is thought to be crazy by, at least, the ministry.

Mum and dad probably already know, they would just rather not have me worrying.

At least, I hope that is the truth.

For awhile after having received my first coded letter I can't focus on anything, not when I'm at school during lessons or when I'm with my friends, not when mum asks with a smile how my day went because all I can wonder is if, when that smile curves into small frowns and has whispers pass through, that it holds much more conspiracy and secrets than it lets on. Then I wonder how Noah is doing at school and my stomach turns whenever I do.

When another letter from Noah arrives by way of barn owl, I almost cringe.

Mum reads it out loud and I listen closely despite how much I don't really want to because I know that this is important to Noah. The way he spoke and behaved when he told me about the Order of The Phoenix last summer could not be easily forgotten. Mum had commented on how strange it was that Noah sent two letters in such close time periods.

Since the last letter I formed a plan to bring the note with me just before every supper, as that is when mum reads the letter for all of us to hear. Sneaking peeks at it from just under the table I'm already aware that there will almost definitely be another message for me, as I had questioned him within my own personal letter and sent it off with the barn owl immediately so mum and dad couldn't ask to see it. These codes are really only for him, as charming them so they could only open for me would make mum and dad suspicious of what we were keeping secret and not being a witch, I couldn't disarm any other type of magic he could put on it.

Butterbeer, _Dumbledore..._

beans, _accusation..._

Whomping Willow_, he-who-shall-not-be-named..._

Snape, _return..._

Hagrid,_ false..._

The story that Noah had fabricated in his letter was almost certainly made up and sounded like quite a tall tale to any onlooker. Basically it went that after filling up on butterbeer and Bertie Bott's Ever Flavour Beans, Noah and Terry had decided to have a stroll on school grounds and by the Whomping Willow spotted Professor Snape and Hagrid arguing about something or another. It was all rather strange and even mum and dad seemed a little confused by it. Dad says that either the school is going bonkers or his son is, then mum laughs and says that Noah might become a great storyteller yet.

Meanwhile I piece together the clues, he is answering my questions to the best of his ability. The most pressing is the accusation, and from what I can make out it seems that the ministry still didn't believe what Dumbledore had said about you-know-who, that his return was false, that they don't believe what Harry Potter said. Why would either of them lie? The overthrow could only mean that the ministry, disapproving of Dumbledore, has completely tarnished Dumbledore's credibility for whatever odd reasoning they had. It made a lot more sense now, when comparing it to what Noah said last year and in his previous letter.

Taking a chance, I bring something up that maybe I shouldn't. "Mum, dad... you said changes had occurred at Hogwarts... what kind of changes? From what Noah said last year, it sounds like-"

"Libby, there are a lot of things that you don't understand I know, and there are a lot of things you shouldn't understand. Not until all of this craziness blows over," Dad says gently, reassuringly.

"But what if it doesn't?" I blather, not at all satisfied with that.

Now dad seems more angry and mum has a sort of annoyed look on her face. She probably wishes I hadn't mentioned anything at all. As I grow older it has dawned on me that they are not as invincible or just as I thought.

"That's not important right now," Dad says, in a tone of finality.

But I don't _want_ it to be final, and I am sick of how they are constantly skirting around the issue as if that could help at all. "But isn't it? If it's all true, if you-know-who-"

"Libby" Mum says in warning.

"-if it is, than how we are right now could be destroyed. I could be destroyed, and not talking about it? Acting as if nothing will happen at all? If it's all true, and he wins, than it won't matter how long you have made me ignore it, because I'll either be dead or in hiding. Is that what you want?"

"No..." my mum says, her voice has cracked and that's when I look at her, noticing the tears welling in her grey eyes. Dad isn't looking at me at all. "that is the last thing we want, Libby... we are trying, believe me, but we want you to be protected and when everyone has drawn a line in the sand and demands you choose a side to stand on... it's hard, when you've got a sweet little girl to worry about. When one side could mean a life in prison and the other hiding out or dying,"

She takes a gasping breathe, allowing the tears to roll down her cheeks. "This world isn't only about what's right and just versus what is wrong and sinister, love. When anyone can win the consequences can be more than you are willing to pay. And you have never been for sale, not for anyone or anything, even for what is just. Not you or Noah. We love you too much,"

"Aren't you supposed to be brave?" I ask and as I say it I know that the words come out too harsh and critical and just plain wrong but there is no taking them back. Especially when that's what my head is screaming on the inside.

_Be brave for mum and dad, Libby._

That's what Noah told me and the words are ringing in my ears. He must have known, that they would abandon their morality, that they would wrap an impending massacre into one tight, neat little box and toss it away, or at least to a place that I couldn't get to.

_Be brave for mum and dad, Libby._

Because they couldn't be brave for themselves.

_Be brave for mum and dad, Libby._

Because they could only make room in their hearts and minds for me.

_Be Brave._

If consequences are what it takes, than I'll have them. I'll let them weigh me down or terrify me or kill me if that's what needs to happen, because there is so much room in me to worry about my muggle friends who have no clue, for Mr. Filch who is in the same boat as me, and all the people that will fight for what is good. That will fight for my life. I'll be brave for Noah.

Mum frowns and looks like she's about to cry again.

"Don't speak to your mother like that, Elizabeth, you have no idea what she had endured in the past. The lengths her mother went through to give safety to Mudbloods, the Order... so quit behaving like a foolish little girl and finish your dinner," Dad instructs sternly, a hint of his ferocity coming through.

Slowly I push back my chair and delicately lift my plate. Dad notices this immediately.

"What are you doing, Elizabeth?"

"I'm going upstairs," I answer, placing my plate on the counter.

He watches as I walk away, I can see it at the corner of my eye. Mum has wiped her tears away, she tries to look just as severe though her red nose and blood-shot eyes make that hard. I have struck a significant blow against her Gryffindor pride, I can tell.

"This doesn't change anything, Elizabeth," Dad says, as if that has ever crossed my mind.

Just before making the first step on the staircase, I say, just loud enough, "It never does,"

For Christmas this year I set up a special surprise for Noah and, hopefully, Terry. I had to get help from dad as part of the plan was too heavy for me to do alone, but with everything set up I am ecstatic. We haven't talked much about what had happened during the middle of November, if they wanted it to be as if nothing had changed than there wasn't much I could do to persuade them otherwise. And why should they, when I am only twelve years old and the most I know about the wizarding world is from an old community where barely anyone spoke to each other? Dad was right about one thing; I have no experience whatsoever.

Noah comes through the fire pit and he does not look nearly as sour as he had last time, instead he smiles at mum and dad and me, setting his bags down to the side and coming over to hug us. As he does I stare just behind him, hoping for another flare of smoke. Green sparkles shimmer and in pops Terry, grinning and happy just as he was last Christmas. With his blue eyes I am reminded of doodles and snow globes and sand castles.

Mum and dad share a few words with Noah saying how happy they are to see him and asking a million questions a minute, encouraging Terry to share in the story telling as well. Idly I stand to the side just as I always have, keeping quiet. Strangely it's as if Noah and I didn't have any sort of secret communication between us, as if Noah and Terry's school year went normally just like it should have. This is probably what mum and dad would want, and these vacations were for them. Finally when the talking draws back a bit I can mention my brilliant surprise for them.

Rather than just give away my scheme I instruct them to follow me to the living room. Humouring me they do, with mum and dad trailing behind, and once we get there I open my arms out wide to reveal their treat. Strewn about the living room are blankets and pillows, and directly across from us is the TV, with it's massive box and wide screen, everything prepared for watching movies or having marathons.

"Ta-da! You see, if I am the one who turns the channels, adjusts the volumes, or plugs in the VHS and what not and you two just so happen to be in the same room, just laying there, than no one can say that you were really _using_ muggle technology. I do also take suggestions,"

"Huh... well, I did always want to know what Lisa was talking about when she went on about those Disney films," Terry says, clapping Noah on the back.

They retreat upstairs to drop off their belongings in Noah's room before coming back downstairs to the living room. Mum makes us all popcorn and the five of us, myself, Noah, Terry, mum and dad make ourselves comfortable. Mum and dad sit together on one of the chesterfields while Noah, Terry and I press our backs against another chesterfield with our legs spread out on the floor, blankets covering them. Every once in awhile I have to get up to put a different movie in the VHS or switch the channel, for the whole day and night we binge on televised entertainment until, one by one, each of us falls asleep. The last movie had been _The Little Mermaid__, _and in a bit of a groggy state my last thought before slipping into dreamland had been that I would have to rewind the videotape in the morning.

While mum and dad are out getting groceries for Christmas dinner, someone knocks on my room's door. Upon opening it I am met with Noah and Terry, who force themselves past me into my room. Maybe I would have gotten angry at this, if Noah didn't look so mad in the door frame.

"I suppose you know the ministry didn't believe Dumbledore about you-know-who returning, but what I couldn't get across in a letter was that the ministry has managed to convince nearly everyone that Harry and Dumbledore are completely insane and everything that they've said so far is entirely fictional."

"But we all know Fudge was looking for any excuse to victimize Dumbledore and Harry," Terry interrupted.

"Then they instated a horrible woman, Umbridge, as a Professor at Hogwarts. She used to be the new DADA teacher and was only upgraded because of how deep in the ministry's pocket she is. They gave her some BS role as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, which basically means that she can act like a bitch to everyone for no reason,"

"She's made so many rules one couldn't take a bath without breaking two of them," Terry supported.

"Anyway, while she's around she changed the curriculum so no one's able to learn anything useful. So Harry and a couple of his friends made a group called DA -Dumbledore's Army-"

"The name mostly makes fun of Fudge, he thinks that's what Dumbledore has been trying to create to usurp him,"

"-where we've been learning proper Defence Against the Dark Arts, because if those bigots from the ministry want to put everyone at risk, we may as well know how to actually protect ourselves. Though we're not sure if we'll continue next year, hopefully the ministry will get back in their right minds-"

"If they had any to begin with," Terry laughed.

"Really?" I asked, speaking for the first time since they started retelling what has happened in the wizarding world for the past several months.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Yes, but it's all very secretive-"

"If the crazy bat witch 'High Inquisitor' ever catches us, we'll get attacked by her kitten plates!" Terry jokes again.

"-she would honestly expel us, or torture us, or inflict any number of painful actions against us. The punishments she gives out just for being late to class is already overboard as it is. But none of us try to think about that too much, as we see it she's the one who took away our right of knowledge in the first place, and just getting these extra lessons from Harry has done leaps and bounds for a lot of us. Imagine how much better we'll be when all of this comes to use,"

What Noah was saying was the exact opposite of what mum and dad want for us. Do they know about how thoroughly Noah believes in his own conscience? "Noah, they don't want us to have any part in this at all. If you're trying to-"

Noah steps towards me and looks head on at my face, grey eyes incredibly intense and there's something in them that I don't recognize. "I'm trying to save you, Libby,"

Just like that I know what it is that I couldn't place. Responsibility.

I want to say something but I hadn't yet forgotten that Terry is also in the room, trying to express private words while he's around would be much too embarrassing. So instead I stare back, with as much maturity as a person of my age can carry, and nod. That was the only point I needed to share anyways, words could not have done a better job.

"I believe a dynamic duo just formed," Terry remarks, he's laying on the ground, arm up in the air and waving his wand around mindlessly.

The next day we go to the park, mum and dad give us odd looks seeing as it's towards the end of December and there's snow on the ground but they don't stop us from leaving. Noah told me before heading out that he had something to show me, but it couldn't be around anyone but himself and Terry. So as we walk along the sidewalk, my breathes coming out white and with hands in my pockets, I am excited to see what they're talking about. It must be something to do with magic, otherwise Noah wouldn't have bothered taking me out here when it could have just stayed behind closed doors. When we get onto the park grounds of my old school, a place I had only attended for my last year of primary, Noah and Terry stop walking in the middle of the field and since I'm right beside them I come to a halt easily as well.

Noah fished from his shoe his wand, eight inches of oak wood with a dragon heartstring core at the centre. He positions the wand in his hand, loudly and with passion he says _"Expecto Patronum,"_ and I watch curiously, strangely I don't feel as if I should remind them of the rules. The rules seem a little pointless now, since the ministry has made a mockery of the justice system itself.

Motioning his wand, tendrils of glowing white seems to seep out at the tip in a slow crawl, hovering over the earth in a fog and forming some sort of shape. It morphs into a pulsing bear, on all four legs and not particularly dangerous at them moment.

"What _is_ that?" I asked, awed by the beauty of magic.

"My patronus," Noah answered, his voice coming out a little rushed as he's concentrating on the thing, he'd called it a patronus, coming from his wand. "We'd learned it in DA, it wards off dementors,"

"There'd been a ton of those at school when Sirius was still a wanted man." Terry notes and I turn my gaze at him for just a moment and realize that he was acting as a sort of lookout, keeping an eye on our surroundings in case muggles decided to stroll by, though in the suburbs of Buckland End there is no where near the same amount of risk in being spotted as there would be in the metropolitan areas of Birmingham.

"Glowing, mystic bears ward them off?" I ask incredulously.

"No, well, not for everyone. Your patronus is supposed to be the animal you have the most affinity with, they reflect who you are as a person. They're a charm spell made from positive energy, the only way to make one is by picturing your most happy thought, and the spell will project that with a near-tangible spirit guardian; a patronus. It's a very difficult charm to learn, took months for us to grasp and we only managed it about a week ago, and even then not everyone in the DA got the hang of it," Terry explains, I don't recall him ever having sounded so... Ravenclaw before.

"Oh... but, if it's so difficult couldn't you get in serious trouble at school for this?" I have to ask, because even though it might sound nag-ish I don't want Noah to be reprimanded for something as small as showing me a spell.

"We could, but right now the worst the ministry will do is send us some warning letters, they've already got at least half the wizarding world infuriated for all the times they've smeared Harry recently not to mention how much focus they've been putting just on him. The last thing they want to do right now is stir up more tension by accusing anyone else at Hogwarts of anything. Besides, as long as no muggles show up than they won't care too much, as mentioned they've got a lot to worry about now,"

Noah lowered his wand and the patronus dissipated into nothingness. As if they had planned out a whole routine Terry had now been the one drawing his wand from his shoe. I don't know exactly what it's made of or what the core is, but it is a dark blue and doesn't seem to have been made out of wood. Speedily he brings his wand in front of him and shouts, a few dials louder than Noah had, _"expecto patronum,". _The same white aura snaked from his wand and transformed into a much smaller animal. It was hard to make out the details, but it had been some sort of bird with a long and pointed beak, the blues of the patronus coming out more than in Noah's.

The bird flies around a bit with grace in its feathers.

"A bird?"

"It's a raven," Terry says, smiling gladly at the patronus. For such a little thing, there seemed to be so much joy in it.

After Terry got the chance to show off his patronus Noah deduced that I needed to learn how to fight properly, as it would be the only defence I had in the wizarding world. They had also suggested that I use knives, swords, spears, weapons that, if turned against me, I would have a somewhat good chance at fighting against if I needed to. The advice is a bit ridiculous but I go along with it anyways, if only because the playful violence keeps Noah, and especially Terry, smiling. Noah tries showing me how to punch properly, that I need to have a good stance and use my entire core, that using my knuckles would hurt the first few times but prove to be in my advantage. Then there's blocking; my face, my stomach, anything that an opponent could take advantage of.

I highly doubt either one of them know how to fight physically, but it hardly seems to matter when I feel more like myself than I had in ages.

Unfortunately Christmas break does not last forever, on the last day Noah and Terry have their belongings packed up again and I watch at my door as they heft their bags up and start heading to the stairs. Noah descends first, his head bobbing and altogether disappearing. I'm prepared to follow them when unexpectedly Terry looks up and catches my eye.

"Oi, Libby, write me sometime, yeah? I want updates on that Beverly Hills show," With that, Terry embarked downstairs leaving a lightness in my chest and rendering me motionless.

It takes a moment for me to calm down somewhat and join them downstairs so I can wish them fair well and a good year at Hogwarts. We have a group hug between myself, mum and dad any they tell him to be extra safe this year, and Noah promises he will be but I know he doesn't mean it.

Even though Noah told me to be brave for them, I think he is only being brave for me.

A part of me hopes that the ministry will have been right all along, if only because I don't want this to be one of the last times I see my brother's face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

***UPDATE*: Went back to make sure that the fic was more consistent with HP canon, as I forgot a few things that would, when compared to the series, not make much sense here as I had accidentally altered them.**

**Hello everyone, I hope you liked this chapter! Having Noah's perspective in the beginning is new and might happen, of course only as little tidbits, throughout the rest of the story. Is that a good idea? Is it not? *shrugs***

**I know having Noah explaining all these things might seem a little repetitive to you guys seeing as it mostly goes over the events of the HP series, but it does help give a picture of where they are in the timeline, and getting more into detail IS intentional and has a purpose. Probably. Just kidding it so does.**

**Patronus' are cool, I mean they're your SPIRIT ANIMAL. What do you guys think Libby's would be? Noah's and Terry's are based off of North West Aboriginal symbolism, ten cookies to anyone who mentions what they represent!**

**Thanks to fold my love, chocolatecheesecakes, RenaElaine, and Summer Leigh Wind for reviewing so far! Of course if you enjoyed the story, I would be really happy if you chose to review! **


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